


The Button House Ghost Gang

by Wanna_be_goodr



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Chatting about your ghost housemates as you do, Fluff, Gen, Ghosts, Horrible Histories - Freeform, It's a funny name, Kitty is adorable, Mike laughs at the word fanny, Nonsense, Pat is perfect, Stupid Deaths, The Captain is Gay (Ghosts TV 2019), This Is STUPID, Tory Bastard Julian Fawcett, V mild swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24901744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanna_be_goodr/pseuds/Wanna_be_goodr
Summary: In which Alison tells Mike all about their ghostly companions
Relationships: Alison & Button House Ghosts (Ghosts TV 2019), Alison (Ghosts TV 2019) & Everyone, Alison/Mike (Ghosts TV 2019)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 140





	The Button House Ghost Gang

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Ghosts fic, if ya like it give it a kudos or leave a comment, I need validation from strangers on the internet please
> 
> Hope ya like it

“A threesome? Seriously?” Mike is incredulous, his jaw dropping further still when Alison utters her next words.

“A gay threesome.”

“The husband of the uptight Victorian – no, Edwardian lady?! The one who said, “whores use rouge”?!” Mike’s screams of mirth echo through the halls of Button House, and Alison winces at the thought of Fanny hearing, wherever she is.

“Mike, Mike, calm down or you’ll give yourself a hernia!” Alison warns, failing to keep her amusement out of her face and voice. “Look, I know it’s all kinds of hilarious and brilliant, but Fanny did die and I think we should afford her a little respe- are you still laughing at her name?”

“Only a little!” Mike protests, but his school-boy grin and glinting eyes tell Alison he’ll still be sniggering when he’s dead enough to join the Button House Ghost Gang (Pat had named them. There had not been a vote).

Alison grins at him fondly and straightens out her features, deciding to leave telling Mike about Julian’s sex-capade till last as she doesn’t think her husband’s internal organs could take the strain of two saucy deaths in a row. They’re sat at the table in the kitchen, taking a break from their hard labour, and seeking refuge from the unseasonably fierce sun beating their backs as they had tried to tackle the ivy creeping up the side of the East Wing. She takes another sip from her (homemade, get her) lemonade and clears her throat.

“So, we’ve been over Fanny – stop it”, Alison admonishes without taking a breath, "and now I think you need to know a little bit about the rest of them. Robin’s the oldest -”

“- the cave one?” 

“Yeah. He can fiddle with the leccy, which is why we thought we had all that trouble with the fuse boxes. But he’s sweet really, he talks in broken English, but he is actually quite clever and sensitive – OH BLOODY HELL!” At this Alison jumps three feet out of her chair and stands facing the corner. “You little shit! I was being nice about you!”

“Robin.” It’s not a question, and try as he might, Mike can’t keep the smirk off his face completely. He loves winding his wife up, knows she hates it when he makes her jump, and having this in common with a man who has lived here for literally thousands of years is quite grounding, in a way. Knowing that people will always, deep down, be little shits, no matter whether they live in caves or mansions.

Alison shoos the invisible caveman out of the room, and then continues her run-down of their absolutely-not-advertised-or-invited housemates. “Robin likes chess… a lot, so I was thinking maybe you could play him? He plays with Julian quite a bit, but you could move all the pieces easily and you love chess.” Mike agrees to a game with Robin, provided Alison translates (not just from ghost to human, but also from Robin to English). The living man’s passion for chess is new, since he discovered about twenty boards around the house (and watched a few YouTube videos on how to play), and he’s excited to have a more enthusiastic opponent than Alison, even if she will have to be there watching and interpreting.

“Right, who’s next?... Ah, Mary, she’s Stuart, I think, and her death is pretty obvious. Witch trial. Which is why you need to be careful about being so blasé with your sunburn comments now it’s summer. Every time she thinks about… well, you know, everything smells like burnt toast for ages after, and she’s obviously got a lot of trauma to work through…”

Mike nods sympathetically because he doesn’t know what to say. Mary’s death, and Mike’s limited knowledge about witch trials and those poor women accused of witchcraft, is so sobering that if Alison were to mention Fanny again, he might not even giggle. But then again, it is a pretty funny name…

“Mary and Kitty seem to get along well, though Kitty’s nice to everyone so that’s no surprise. Kitty’s probably Georgian… I don’t really know. I don’t know an awful lot about her, apart from she’s the human embodiment of candyfloss and unicorns and she died a virgin…”

Mike shakes his head, “Poor girl…”

Alison rolls her eyes and continues, “she’s the one I have those sleepovers with occasionally.”

Mike smiles. He loves those sleepovers. Ali ‘sleeps’ in another room, Kitty’s, apparently, and they talk about boys and dancing and makeup. Mike sneaks out of bed those nights and listens because he thinks its adorable when Alison’s had to explain a joke to Kitty and laughs herself silly before she even gets to the punchline bit. Mike also loves it when they talk about boys because he is the only one they talk about, what with Alison being married and Kitty being dead (and a virgin). Ali’s never been great at romance, so it’s lovely to hear her talk about love without feeling stupid and changing the subject. And she says the nicest things about him – he’s the best kisser she’s ever met, he makes her feel grounded and secure, he’s her favourite person in the world, he understands her and she understands him, like when she started seeing the ghosts and he believed her. They work. She’s got no idea he listens, and he’s not planning on telling her anytime soon because he loves a good ego boost – he’s only human, after all.

Alison suddenly grins and waves out of the window. “That’s Pat, I think he’s taking them all for a walk around the grounds. He’s big on group activities.”

“He’s the Scout leader, the one with the family that visits, yeah?”

Alison nods. “He’s so sweet, he just wants to be friends with everyone, like Kitty. He’s ever so kind and sensitive too, apparently even when he was dying he was just thinking about protecting the Scouts… anyway, he’s all sunshine and rainbows and I’m sure he’d love it if you said hello now and again.” Alison knows Mike feels guilty when he accidentally ignores a ghost or manages to walk through them, and awkward when he realises they’re in the room with him, so she occasionally suggests the odd topic for him to look up and talk to a seemingly empty room about for a few minutes to keep their dead housemates entertained, and Mike’s ‘living-guilt’ at bay (The Captain had been beside himself (in a very restrained way, of course) when Mike did some research on anti-aircraft guns).

“They’ll have to be careful about avoiding swans,” Mike says, remembering Mary’s suspicions of them. He doesn’t disagree, and he most certainly does not trust geese. Definitely the Devil’s work, them. “Okay, we’ve got Kitty, Pat, Mary, Robin and… Fanny,” Mike says, counting them off on his fingers as he recalls their names. He’s proud of the fact that he only needed one attempt at Fanny’s name that time. “Who’s left?”

“The Captain. World War Two, doesn’t know it’s over. Probably a huuuge Vera Lynn stan. Very gay, very repressed. Smart, stern, but he’s a good man. If the phrase ‘stiff upper lip’ was a person, that’s the Captain. Loved the director lad from the TV company – obviously his type is ‘captain in their own line of work’. Also, there’s Thomas: regency period, kinda like a bit of a budget Mr Darcy, but he means well. Artist. Romantic poet. Hates Lord Byron with a passion. Has lots of dreams, mainly about women. Is trying, and failing, to woo me into divorcing you, killing myself, and marrying him as a ghost. Overly dramatic, is 100% That Bitch. Also has dreams about being a crab… odd ball, but gentle.”

“Woah woah woah – this dead dude who lives here - or doesn’t, as the case may be - wants to get with you? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“So you could do what? Fight him for my affections? You’ve never been in a fight in your life and he’s dead! Also… no competition babe, like, at all. No question. I know who I’d choose if it were an actual choice.” Alison’s eyes soften for a moment, and Mike smiles at her.

“Aww I love you to –”

“- Him.” She says, thrilled with herself for getting Mike to fall into that little trap. The idiot knows she loves him, she married him after all. But still, a little bit of teasing’s always fun…

Mike leaps up and they’re caught in a Tom and Jerry-esque chase around the kitchen table. Alison changes direction, so does Mike. Round and round they go until neither can see straight they’re so dizzy. Just as Mike starts to gain on her (and she develops a stitch), Alison plays her ace.

“Julian’s that pervy Tory who died in the nineties in that sex scandal!” She cries, and like someone’s thrown a switch in Mike’s head, he stops short. He blinks. Then his eyes widen and his jaw hits the floor.

“NO! Seriously? THAT sex scandal? Wait, the one with all the…”

Alison nods slowly, wiggling her eyebrows. “How mad is that? I mean, how he even convinced those other people to do that is beyond me… and also, how was he the only one who died?!”

Mike’s stunned. Even the sleaziest tabloids wouldn’t print all the sordid, filthy little details of Julian Fawcett, MP’s death. That little sex-capade happened here, in this very house! Mike made a mental note to get all the carpets cleaned when they had the money, just in case.

He also silently lamented the fact that despite Julian’s impressive ghost-powers, the new owner of Button House would never be able to shake his hand for his stupid, epic death.


End file.
